Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
He notices, and the air between us goes taut. “Perhaps I should.”
When he lowers his mouth to mine, every thought leaves my head and every word leaves my lips. I know nothing but how much I want to feel his kiss again.
His big hands sweep up my sides, cupping my breasts through my dress. I want it gone. I crave the contact of last night—with nothing but the thin, wet shift between his hands and my skin.
I grab fistfuls of Misha’s hair, and he deepens the kiss. Our lips and tongues speak a language of their own, a call and response that feels like part sacred ritual and part forbidden pleasure.
He drags his mouth down the side of my neck, then lower, and I hear my own gasp. His hands are everywhere—behind my neck, sweeping over the exposed skin of my back, dipping to grip my rear. When he scrapes his teeth over the swell of my breasts—hot and wet and promising so much more—my body shudders.
I might be whimpering when he straightens again, pulling my body flush with his and bringing his mouth to my ear. I’m definitely trembling.
“I know,” he murmurs. One of his hands is in my hair, and I can feel the artfully pinned curls falling. I don’t care. “Gods, I know.” He’s clinging to me like he might fall off the world if he lets go. I’m clinging to him the same way. “I don’t want to go back to the courtyard and dance and play nice. I want to take you to my chambers and get you out of this dress.”
I curl into his chest. Yes. Please. That. “But you have to go,” I say.
“You told your sister you weren’t interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with me,” he says. “And then you say you want to stay, and you kiss me like that, and . . .” He retreats a step and scrapes a hand over his face. “I don’t know what to think.”
I see the hurt in his russet eyes. I didn’t expect that information to make it to Misha—at least not so quickly.
“Is it because of your baker’s son or because I’m fae or—”
“No.” My sinuses burn with the tears I won’t let free. “None of that.”
“I know what Lark said, but she’s not always right. I promise you she’s wrong about this. I won’t break your heart. Not when it’s so precious to me.” He clasps my hand in his and brings it to his chest. “I’m not just a king looking for a queen. I’m a male who’s found himself falling for the last person he expected. I know it’s scary. If I’m terrified, I can’t imagine how you must feel but . . . Give me a chance. Jasalyn, give this a chance.”
Jasalyn.
Her name is the hammer that breaks my heart. Lark was wrong. Misha didn’t break it. I did. And I have to leave. Not just because I’m running out of time, but because I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt him.
“Go back to the ball.” I touch my falling curls. “I’m going to go to my chambers and put myself back together.”
“Is that a yes?” he asks, searching my face.
I press my hand against my chest as if I can hold my heart together with pressure alone. “If you still want me after tonight, then perhaps . . .” I know I can’t hold a smile, so I let it shake, let my fear shine through. “Then perhaps tomorrow I will try to convince myself a male like you could truly want a girl like me.”
“You have no idea how much.” He skims trembling fingertips down the side of my neck, then tucks his hands into his pockets and turns back toward the castle and the party.
Goodbye, Misha. I’ll miss you.
I don’t dare say the words out loud, but he turns toward me, a question on his face as if maybe the thought found its way to him.
Then don’t make me wait long, Princess.
The words are as clear as day—as if he spoke them aloud—but I know he spoke them into my mind. My heart races as I watch him heading back to his party, back to his guests.
How did that happen? Why did it feel so right? And how do I make sure it never happens again?
I push my worries aside and rush back to my chambers. Leaning against my door, I press a palm to my chest, where it feels like a demon is trying to claw its way out.
How did I let this happen? How did I fall for a male who doesn’t even know who I am? How did I let him fall for a lie?
I don’t have much experience in the ways of romance, but I’m not so naïve that I don’t understand what’s going to happen between me and Misha tonight if I go back to that party. I’ll end the night in his room, or he in mine, and having to walk away after that might break me forever.